This is me!

To:        Mr T E McBride, CEO From:            Capt A Hall   Dear Mr McBride. It was kind of you to invite both Simon Watson and me to your office the other day.   I have taken careful note of your comments and those of our HR lady, Miss Pegg. Regrettably, because of your sudden illness, we were unable to assure you that we were not responsible for the post-it notes distributed around the VIP Visitor area.   I am quite sure that even senior clergymen have encountered those four letter words on previous occasions and that any outrage displayed was superficial and short lived.   I make the assumption that the note causing most concern was the one on the light switch.   At a quick glance, it is very easy to mistake the phrase “flick off” for something more offensive and I know that His Grace, the Bishop has poor eyesight. Regarding the strongly worded letter from the Engineering manager, it must surely be a stretch of the imagination to place the blame on SW and me for the un

Ice is funny stuff.  In small cubes it can enhance the pleasure of a gin and tonic.  (Please note that tonic really should not constitute more than 30% of a decent G&T.  A slice of lime or lemon is good also) When one is young, ice can provide endless amusement, ice skating springs to mind as does sliding in the school playground whilst ignoring the entreaties of the Headmaster. Ice is not, however a good thing when transportation is involved.  Motor bikes are very badly affected as are cars, lorries and most especially aircraft. The controllabilty of a motor vehicle depends mainly on the abilities of the driver, the pressure in the tyres (or 'tires' if you are 'Murcan, dear reader) and, with due diligence, journeys may be undertaken with a degree of safety. Ice forming on the flying surfaces of an aircraft distorts and destroys the airfoil shape and renders the careful calculations of the designer chaps worthless. It is also very heavy.  Basically, if ice formation is

You have to be a local.   Antigua.   VC Bird International airport, the home base of LIAT, the acronym for Leeward Islands Air Transport.   LIAT had just been taken over by the UK based charter airline who were my employers.   LIAT had a less than pleasant safety record and their continual breaking of the Britten Norman Islanders on landing was a frequent source of worry to the UK based bean counters. Four of us were despatched to Antigua to ascertain the cause of the problem and after several trips flying with the local crews it was apparent that the nose of the aircraft was frequently never raised high enough on the last stage of touchdown.   If the nosewheel touches before the mains, an episode of ‘wheelbarrowing’ occurs and directional control is severely diminished usually causing an ungainly and unintended excursion off the runway and damage to the aircraft. Our attempts to explain and correct this issue resulted in scornful dismissals from the pilots concerned.   However

                                         Letters to McBride 5 To: Mr T E McBride CEO  From: Capt. A Hall  April 13 2002  Dear Mr McBride.  I feel that I must correct any impression that you may have regarding the relationship between Miss Tomlinson and myself. Despite indications to the contrary, nothing of any significance took place at the Christmas party. When I went to the stationery store to rest, Miss Tomlinson was already there, and with the lights out, I tripped over her, thereby causing both of us to fall to the floor. Due, no doubt to our close proximity, she acted in a very friendly manner and I was not aware of any protest on her part. I was greatly surprised when she made a complaint some three days later.  I have apologised to the Financial Director who regrettably was on the receiving end of the phone call from her irate fiancé. My understanding of the situation is that the gentleman telephoned the Company and demanded to speak to ‘whoever was in charge.’

                                                              It’s Only a Dance   When said quickly, the prospect of touring with a band sounds like fun. Shaun, our bandleader announced that the band had been booked for a short tour in Scotland. We were to perform three concerts on the mainland before making the crossing to the island of Orkney for a series of seven more performances.  With some difficulty, I was able to arrange two weeks off work and I eagerly anticipated the prospect of swapping my airline uniform for the rather casual attire favoured by musicians. Although the band played most sorts of music, our speciality was a brand of rock and roll known as Southern Rock, as performed by such bands as Lynard Skynard and ZZ Top. We were rather dubious as to the prospects of acceptance by the rather staid residents of the Northern Isles. Shaun was unperturbed, however and we set off northwards in our convoy of two Transit vans.  The first concert was in Dundee. Our debut CD had so

The Solution  It is a well established fact that those involved in the difficult and mainly unprofitable business of entertainment should have, prior to achieving international fame, served an apprenticeship in the unforgiving environment of the Working Men’s Clubs.  Several of those clubs, especially those situated in industrial areas have earned a reputation of a distinct lack of either forgiveness or understanding when an entertainer fails to meet the expected standard and this represents excellent preparation for the hard and rocky road to stardom.  The stories told by those entertainers who have progressed to greater things are all too familiar to both musicians and comedians alike.  My band was booked to play at a somewhat notorious establishment in the West Midlands and as well as providing music of a general nature, we were to back a female vocalist. She arrived at the club rather dishevelled and clearly very nervous.  “My agent said that this is a difficult place to sing” she